This blog is about anything I think is funny. B of All, this blog is about the adventures of being single in Washington DC. C of All, this blog is about fashion faux pas, pop culture, and the pursuit of a really good hot dog.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

My across the hall neighbor gives me the creeps. I avoid him at all costs and will deliberately hide out in my apartment if I hear him in the hall. Even if that means I'll be late places. But sometimes I get caught and talking to him is unavoidable. On those miserable occasions, this is how our conversation generally goes:

Him: Hi! Been a long time. How YOU doing? (leer)

Me: Fine, thanks.

Him: You're looking good! (leer verging on licking chops)

Me: Er. Thanks. Funny thing, I'm actually trying to set the land record for getting inside my apartment. Would love to chat, but can't. Sorry. Bye-eee!

This conversation, while uncomfortable, is actually pretty weird in person because he has some odd form of turrets that causes him to burst out with loud noises periodically. So our conversation is actually like this:

Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike him because he's got this turret-ish problem, I dislike him because he's SO DISGUSTING. I feel like I need to take a shower in turpentine after talking to him. ICK.

So I was SUPER happy to come home today and see that movers were inside his apartment boxing everything up. The movers, on the other hand, were NOT SUPER happy to be boxing up his stuff.

As is my habit, ducked into my apartment and I curled up with a book. I was promptly lulled to sleep by the dulcet tones of packing tape screeching and newspaper crumpling, underscored with a loud and cacophonous dialog between the Greek movers. It was a very peaceful nap. But even as I was coming out of this most restful of naps, I could tell that the poor movers were at the end of their rope with my frustrating and icky neighbor. This is what I heard:

Monday, August 25, 2008

I love its Frank Lloyd Wrightiness. The leather is so soft and supple, I just want to mash my face into it and whisper it sweet nothings all day long. The top of the bag - the part that holds the zipper - is white leather. Its a pity you can't see it in the picture, because you would agree that this splash of white is tres tres chic. In fact, I think that strip of white at the top is my favorite part about the entire bag.

I think its super quirky and so fun! Not everyone can pull off 80s inspired polka-dots, but I think I could be one of the lucky few. You can click on the picture to get a closer view of the cute seaming and pleat work. (Lovin that ruffly hem!) And to satisfy my risque side, the faux Peter Pan collar is sheer. Oh-la-la!

Le sigh. Ancestors, its at times like these I really wish you had done more to exploit the unwashed masses to build up a massive fortune and thereby leave us, your darling progeny, with very large and very lucrative trust funds.

I love a Demolition Derby (who doesn't right!?) but this year's was oh-so-great. It's not every year that cars launch up ON TOP of one another. Or smash through the jersey wall. It was so exciting that I found myself screaming at the top of my lungs, "AWE-SOME! AWE-SOME! AWE-SOOOOOOMEE!!" while punching the air with one fist like some crazed Beattle fan and trying to take pictures with the other.

If the derby itself wasn't in and of itself WAY AWESOME, the night would have been worth it to see this championship mullet.

Behold the mullet.

It leaves me a little breathless, I have to admit.

I hereby dubbed the theme of this fair, The Food On A Stick Fair, and accordingly ate only food on a stick. If it has been a while since you've had a corndog - MEND YOUR WAYS! I forgot how divine they are.

Camie and I are both smiling weird in this picture because we were afraid we had junk stuck in out teeth. I do have junk stuck on my teeth, but it's intentional (and will be gone in a couple more weeks). Also I was balancing a cup of fries and three ketchup cups on my lap. This picture was taken about 2 minutes before one of those ketchup cups turned over, leaving a very attractive red blotch on my thigh. Super duper sexy, as usual.

For dessert, we hit the the ice cream stand. And I wanted a milkshake, but a milkshake isn't Food On A Stick, now is it? No, it is not. But Frozen Bananas are. So a Frozen Banana it was. This is what I learned about frozen bananas: One, they are really hard to bite into. Two, they aren't very tasty, especially when compared to a milkshake. Three, pictures while eating them are, well, rather awkward.

So the fair was awesome, but I've also been doing other great stuff to keep me from blogging. Like going to the beach.

Ahhh .... the beach.

And finally, tonight I had a party at my house. The final bash at my illustrious digs in Silver Spring deserved nothing less than a Taco Sundae Sunday. Tacos + Ice Cream Sundaes + Sunday = One Great Par-Tay. I, for one, had a great time, and I think my guests did too. Unfortunately, I was too busy having a great time and directing people to the taco bar or the ice cream bar to remember to take any pictures. Hostessing is very important and demanding work, so I can totally see why people hire photographers for these kinds of things.

Anyway, with all of this going on, you can see how blogging has fallen by the wayside. But next week I will be packing up my house which means I'll be blogging ALL OF THE TIME as I procrastinate sorting through all of my junk.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Friday, August 15, 2008

Camie called me the other night. She said, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm getting really excited to be roommates!"

"That's great!" I said, genuinely pleased. "I'm excited too! I guess this means that you've been having fun living with Anna?" Cam had to move out of her apartment a few weeks early, and has been staying with her former roommate Anna before we move to our new place at the beginning of September.

"Yeah! We've been to the pool every day, and we make our favorite drink -- which is DELICIOUS! -- and its just so NICE to come home and have someone there," she gushed.

"Wow, that does sound like fun! Anna really is the best. Didn't she also make you fruit and yogurt parfaits for breakfast too?" I asked.

"Yeah, she said that those were her breakfast of choice. Who was I to disagree with that?"

"Who indeed!"

After I hung up the phone I realized that despite Anna's saintliness, a bad precedent is being set here.

I believe I'm going to have to take Anna aside and ask her to introduce some behaviors that will help transition Camie to what life will REALLY be like living with a roommate. The first step will be to immediately stop making tasty snacks and being all companionable. The second step will be to use all of the hot water and take an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom. The third, and I think most important step to attune Camie to what it will be like living with me, Anna will need to start talking (or singing, or tra-la-laa-ing) to herself as she grand jettes around her apartment.

Although it will go against Anna's very grain to adopt these measures, I think it's best to manage these expectations now. I don't want to find Camie sobbing by the front door and calling Anna's name after the movers leave us with all of our boxes.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

"Hey!" Mustard said as I walked in the door. "I've got a surprise for you."

"Oh goody! I love surprises," I said before remembering that a Mustard-style surprise might be as welcome as a monster zit on your wedding day. "What'd you do? Reprogram the cable box so that every channel shows nothing but Sabado Gigante?"

"No, I didn't. But that's not a bad idea," he said getting that far away look in his eye that I've come to distrust deeply.

"So?" I prompted, "My surprise?"

"Oh riiiiiiiight. THE SURPRISE!" he said, adding with a mischievous little grin, "I've written you a song."

"A song?"

"Yes! A song, a ballad, a little ditty. To cheer your ugly mug up. I'm sort of sorry that online dating was such a bust. You know, as sorry as I get about anything, that is. I know you've been really sad about it."

"No I haven't."

"Uh-huh. You can't lie to me. I know. I have to live with you."

"I'm not lying. Really. I couldn't be happier that I'm done with the online dating. You didn't need to write me a cheer up song."

"Oh, but I did. I really did." When he gets this smug expression, there's no arguing with him. I sighed.

"So do I get to hear it or what? I didn't think you were very musical."

"I have many talents that you don't know anything about," he sniffed. "But I'll admit, I only provided new lyrics to Bonnie Tyler's most excellent Power Ballad, Total Eclipse of the Heart," he said, sinking down onto one knee to pay homage to the 80s classic.

"Put that lighter away before you melt yourself," I said.

"OK. Now, since this is sort of a duet, I'm going to need you to sing the "Turn Around" part. Can you handle that?"

"Good," he said, all business. "And I only did one verse and the dramatic middle part - I don't have all day to focus my energy on your stupid problems. Here are the lyrics. Don't mess up."

"Ok. I'll try."

He stared at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You have to start," he whispered. Oh right. So after a rousing piano intro I started ....

click around Every now and then you get a little bit lonely and you think you should see who's onlineclick aroundEvery now and then you're trolling profiles like a skanky cougar hoochiemama way past her primeCLICK AROUND!Every now and then you meet a guy who seems like he's perfect and everything he does looks rightClick aroundEvery now and then you picture your bright future sharing his kids with him and his shrewish ex-wifeClick AROUND, weird guys(?!)Every now and then they're freaking tards!Click around, weird guysEvery now and then they're freaking tards!!

And he's sending you weird textsAnd he says you'd look good in leatherAnd if you'd only agree to be nextHe'd buy a wedding dress made of pleatherAnd in only one date you'd be vexedBut to him that wouldn't matter.Desperate just to meet you, he'd cross all the state linesIn your heart your sorry cuz he's weird and fifty-nine!You don't know what to do, he's just so damn bizarreDoes he really think you want to spend your time talkin bout cars?!You've gotta dump him tonight!Being single's gonna start tonight!Being single's gonna start tonight!

Once upon a time you would tolerate foolsNow it seems you don't have the artNothing you can doYou've ADHD of the Heart

Friday, August 1, 2008

One of the best perks at my job is Pizza Friday. Have I told you about Pizza Friday? I should sometime since it's a funny little ritual. But I can't do it right now; I've got something more pressing to share with you. All you need to know for today's post is that during Pizza Friday my co-workers and I sit around one of the conference tables and try to out-wit, out-smart, and out-offend everyone else at the table.

Usually we talk about extreme sports or Office Space, but today someone asked what the strangest pet we ever owned was. The clear winner was one of the Russian girls who said she had a pet BEAR (?!?). But as weird, and yet somehow NOT weird as that is, it's not the story that's going to be keeping me up tonight.

Nope, the scariest story of the day was about a pet snake. Naturally. If you have a crippling fear of snakes, as I do, I suggest you don't read the rest of this post. Unless you're in a program, as I am, to try and build up your tolerance to them by slowly exposing yourself to snakes in harmless ways. Then it might be ok. But don't sue me. Dad, consider yourself warned. I don't want to hear any crybaby stories from you later.

So, this story was related by my friend Ryan. Apparently this happened to one of his friends.

She had a pet boa constrictor for years and years. She let it roam freely about her house. (Obviously, she wasn't in her right mind!) After years of letting this snake do just as it pleased it was getting pretty big and at the time of this story was probably around 5 feet long or so.

One night she woke up and found the snake stretched out alongside her in bed - STICK STRAIGHT! Of course this freaked her out, and so she picked him up and put him back into his tank.

The next night, same thing. Woke up to find the snake stretched out alongside her ... stick straight. Again, she put him back into the cage.

Since clearly this was weird behavior, she took the snake to the vet the next day to see if he had any idea what was up. When she told the vet that she'd found the snake stretched out next to her, the vet looked at her with a shocked expression and said, "He was measuring himself against you. To see if he was big enough to EAT YOU."

***

And now, readers, if you can sleep well after that story I salute you. I plan on enjoying my future as an insomniac. I expect I'll be very productive.